Kidnapping of an Elven Princess
by Naurel
Summary: Story of a woman who does not belong in her clan, where she suffers day by day until she finally leaves after a brutal assault; will she find the place where she belongs? Read more inside! Rated R for violence
1. Beginnings

I do not own any of Tolkien's characters, although sometimes I wish I did. Cylliel and anything else you do not instantly recognize are mine, the rest Tolkien's, so please, leave the suing for someone who deserves it. My story is from a person who envisions the story to be differently, so I wrote a fan fic.

Chapter 1 - Beginnings

Cylliel sighed as the wind tugged at her hair, blowing it out of place again. All this wind was really starting to get to her and her hair band was not doing any good at the moment. She jumped down from her perch on top of the boulder, and settled her lower body against the giant land mark, as she began braiding her hair for the third time. As she braided she thought of all the stares she had gotten over the years because of the color and length of her hair, and the thought of cutting her hair passed though her mind, but she quickly dismissed the thought.

'My hair reminds me of who I am', she thought 'It matters not what other people think.'

She finished braiding and jumped back up onto the giant rock called Stonetree, still thinking of the people of her clan. The people of her clan who had taken her in, raised her, and now shunned and mostly feared her. She sighed as again the wind picked up, blowing one strand of hair across her face. Hair that inadvertently marked her as an outsider. The people of her clan, the Rashadonii, were a tall race, with medium to light skin, pale blue eyes and pale blond hair that, unless you were a chief or another high-ranking clan member, was short, about chin-length. The longest hair in the clan always belonged to the chief's wife, for although the men ruled; heritage and lineage passed though the women of the clan. No man was allowed hair longer than their wife, and their wife's hair length was based on her position in the clan.

Cylliel broke all those rules. Her hair reached the small of her back, the second longest in the clan, and her hair was a rich dark brown in color, so dark it was almost black. If she had been born to the Rashadonii, she would be among the lowest in the clan, but her own people feared her because of her appearance. Her eyes were a deep green in color, reflecting the color of leaves in the spring, or the color of emeralds, though both colors where a rarity on the planes, where people could travel for days, even weeks without seeing a single tree, and there where no mines in the flat, sandy planes to behold emeralds in their glory. The top of her head barely reached the shortest man's chin, and her skin was a darker golden tan, much darker than any clan member's. Then there was her age.

She thought back over the years since she had been invited to make her home among the Rashadonii, and understood the clan member's fear of her. She had been alive for centuries, and had not aged at all, or changed a bit. She could not remember never living with the Rashadonii, but she could remember the day she was fully adopted, almost 2000 years ago. Since then, she had been living on her own on the outside of the clan, a living legend. Some of the clan ignored her, Most feared her, and all avoided her. She lived in the shadows, sometimes disappearing for years at a time, only to show up again just as the clan thought she was finally dead. She smiled as she thought of the few friends she had discovered over the years, the ones that didn't avoid her in fear, the ones who where different from the rest of the clan, the ones who accepted her.

"Cylliel!" The voice split the air, from behind her.

As Cylliel turned, she smiled in recognition of the voice, and greeted her friend before she was all the way around.

"Hello there, Sharadoni," She said, as her eyes met the medicine women's. Sharadoni was the oldest woman in the Rashadonii clan, medicine woman, and her own dear friend. Cylliel jumped down from her perch atop Stonetree, and walked to meet her friend.

Legolas winced as his body hit the ground, and struggled to breathe after all the air had been knocked out of him. He quickly rolled to the side to avoid the on-coming blow, and jumped up onto his feet, drawing his twin daggers. His mind went into automatic reaction, as all of his thought was centered on one thing: Survival.

He stepped to his right to dodge the next blow, cutting up at out with both daggers, and as the goblin fell from his blows, he turned quickly and polished off the next goblin that had thought to sneak up on him from behind. His dagger cut though the goblin's hide easily, but this one was a little more stubborn than the last, and Legolas smiled grimly as his daggers ripped a path across the goblin's throat. The goblin finally dropped in death, and as Legolas looked up, he realized that the battle was finally over.

"Legolas!" came the voice, "Legolas, why do these goblins face the light? They have never braved the light of day to attack us before, and never in our own realm, why now? Why?"

Legolas looked over at his friend and sighed, "I don't know, Arphenon, honestly I don't know". Legolas thought about what his friend had said, and it stuck him too, why were the goblins attacking on the elven lands, and why in full day light? It had never happened before, and if he hadn't spent the last two weeks fighting them off, he probably would not have believed it. He looked up as his friend and comrade Manbechír rode up to him, and was surprised when Manbechír did not even get off his horse before stating his message.

"The King bids Prince Legolas to return to the palace on an urgent mission, with all speed and directness, as there is a matter that the King wishes the Prince to see to personally," said Manbechír, looking pleased with him self that he remembered the King's message in it's fullest.

Legolas just looked up at him and said, "Does Father not know that my energy is needed here? I cannot go off while Mirkwood is in such danger, just on the whim of my father".

Manbechír looked ashamed of his Prince's ranting, and simply said, "That is the entire message that the King has sent, and to say that it is an order that he expects you to follow".

Legolas sighed, knowing that his friend was right. Even if Manbechír had come right in the thick off battle to deliver his message, he had to obey his King before disobeying his father. He looked up at Manbechír with a gleam in his eye and said, "I hope you don't mind walking back to the Palace".

Two hours later, Legolas strode into his father's library and waited for his father to acknowledge him. Thranduil was an older version of his son, long golden hair, proud, striking features that seemed old and young at the same time. The main difference was not their height or their build, but in their eyes. Thranduil's eyes were grey like mithril, shining, yet ancient. Legolas had eyes as blue as sapphires, his mother's eyes.

Thranduil finally turned around and said, "I bid you to travel to Imladris, and give Lord Elrond this message", he said, handing Legolas a parchment that had been folded and sealed with wax.

As Legolas took the parchment from his father, he noticed that the message had Thranduil's personal seal in the wax, not the seal of the King of Mirkwood. When Legolas looked up and met his father's eyes, Thranduil said, "That message concerns a former guest of ours, and that is all you need know, until Lord Elrond himself has read the message. Understood?" "Yes, Father." was all Legolas said in reply.

Four Hours Later, Legolas was on his way on his own horse, with plenty of provisions to last him the way Manbechír and Arphenon accompanied him, and as they traveled to Imladris, Legolas though again to the growing treat of the goblins in the southeastern part of the Woodland Realms, and as they rode over the next few days, he had a feeling in his heart that soon, he would find out all the answers to that problem. But the real question is, did he want to know the answers?

Well, what do you think?? Read and review! Please! I really do take reviews seriously, and appreciate them greatly! I will update soon, I promise!


	2. Avoidance

Sigh I do not own any of Tolkien's characters, although at times I wish I do. Cylliel and anything else you do not instantly recognize are mine, the rest Tolkien's, so please, leave the suing for someone who deserves it.  
  
Chapter 2- Avoidance  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Cylliel ran to meet Sharadoni, not wanting to let her old friend make the climb up to meet her. She jumped from stone to stone, barely encumbered by the quiver on her back, or the sword at her side, as she made her way down the only hill on the otherwise flat lands, except the mountains that could be seen far to the south. But no one traveled to the south, because that took you though Lasandoi territory and none of the Rashadonii went there. Stonetree was a natural landmark, and a good look-out tower, if you were not afraid of the climb that took you nearly 500 ft above the grassy plains.  
  
"Good day, Sharadoni," she said, "what brings you this far away from camp? You usually don't leave camp for any reason."  
  
Sharadoni sighed, and looked up at her friend as she spoke, "The Chief is dying my young friend, and for some reason he calls for you. He made me swear to find you myself, for it seems I am the only one he will trust this task to."  
  
Cylliel frowned at the news, for although Chief Rashadi was elderly and it was expected he would pass on at any time, she had not thought Rashadi would break all custom and send for her. Rashadi had been her friend for many years, although the clan shunned her more now than ever, in this small family of two brothers and a sister, she had found friends. She looked into the eyes of the Chief's sister and simply said, "Take me to him".  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
After a day of travel in near silence Manbechír and Arphenon had already grown tired of their Prince's dark mood that seemed to accompany this trip to Imladris. Legolas had not told them anything of this trip, only that the King had commanded that the message to Lord Elrond be delivered in all haste. Manbechír and Arphenon both knew that the Prince would much rather be fighting off goblins in the southeastern part of Mirkwood, but they also knew the Prince would never openly disobey the King.  
  
Legolas rode deep in thought, reflecting on the recent string of goblin attacks, in full daylight none the less. He was disturbed by the thought that something very powerful must be driving these hapless creatures, but his troubled mind could not find the reasoning behind the attacks on Mirkwood. The Woodland Realms had their troubles, with the darkening of the world, Mirkwood had become overgrown, dark, a very terrible place.  
  
While the Necromancer had lived in the south, overgrown spiders had infested the north, and goblins and other twisted creatures roamed the Realm, destroying as they went. But never before had they attacked in force, or with purpose. Before it had been random encounters, with small bands of goblins, not full battles with goblin fighting units. As the day went on, he could not help but feel that all his questions would be answered soon, and that something or someone was coming to change the fate of Middle-Earth.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
As Cylliel walked into the camp with Sharadoni at her side, she stared straight at the Chief's tent in the middle of the encampment. Even though she always watched the same spot, and never turned her head, she could feel the clan's stares, hear their whispers. "Watch out for that one!" a mother warned her young son, "If you do bad things, that one will get you, for she is a living spirit, she finds bad little boys and girls, then takes them away for punishment!"  
  
If the situation had not been so serious, Cylliel would have laughed out loud at that remark, but instead she slightly shook her head, thinking, 'so, I've been upgraded to a living spirit, huh? It sounds like the clan is having trouble figuring out who I am. But then again, do I know who I am?' Cylliel could remember nothing but life on the wind-swept plains, nothing more than life with the Rashadonii. But in her long life, she had always known that even though the Rashadonii had taken her in, adopted her and raised her, she was not one of them.  
  
"Who approaches the Chief's tent?" said the guard by the entry. Cylliel simply stared at him, trying to remember his name. She had been gone from the Rashadonii clan for nearly a decade, traveling with the Mashandi clan to the west, and most of the people she knew were no longer young enough for service. A new generation had taken over while she had been in the west. She had only recently returned to the Rashadonii, when word had reached her of the decline in the chief's health.  
  
"I am Sharadoni, and I wish to speak with the chief," the elder beside Cylliel spoke up, "I believe he is waiting for me, and I do not wish to make him wait any longer."  
  
For a moment the guard looked as if he would argue, but traditional reverence for the medicine woman of the clan out weighed his loath for the 'outsider', and he finally let them pass. As they passed the guard, the wind picked up enough to cause Cylliel's hair to fan out behind her, and the guard visibly flinched away, as if her hair was poison he was trying to avoid. Cylliel sighed at the occurrence, thinking of how many times in the past instances such as that had happened.  
  
As they stepped into the entrance, the wind was suddenly shut off, and her hair settled down again. She thought of cutting her hair for the second time that day, and dismissed that thought just as quickly. 'Someday I'll try to find my true home,' she thought, 'Someday, just someday'. As they stepped into the inner tent, the light of a small fire greeted them, contrasting with her darker hair again. She noticed as servants hurried to leave out the back of the inner tent, no doubt to be away from the 'living spirit'. Her attention was drawn to one side of the tent, where the sleeping platforms were located. To the one that had the curtains drawn back, to the one her friend was lying in. 'He looks so old,' she thought, 'so far gone, why do I always have to watch my friends die? Someday I'll find the place where I belong, someday'.  
  
"Good morn, Rashadi," she said, moving toward the platform. She approached slowly, not wanting to disturb the chief's daughter, who sat by her father. Her and Assandi usually got along, but with the looming death of her father, Assandi was feeling burdened by new responsibilities. The chief's wife had passed away a few years ago, and Assandi was starting to feel the pressures of her new duty. The man Assandi married would be the new chief of the Rashadonii.  
  
Cylliel moved her thoughts away from the young woman sitting on the edge of the platform, and moved closer to see her dear friend. Rashadi was propped up against furs and blankets, in a sitting position that would not have tired him. Cylliel stood there watching him, and then turned to put her weapons by the entrance. As she turned, a hand grabbed hers, in a grip that was surprisingly strong. She turned back to see the hand that held hers was Rashadi's, and that he was watching her. Her green eyes met his blue ones, and she was shocked to find sadness in them.  
  
"Why are you sad, my chief?" she asked, "why are there tears in your eyes?"  
  
"Because I have not been totally honest with a friend," he replied, "And for that reason I am sad. Assandi, go find my brother, tell him I wish to speak with him, then please, go to your aunt's tent, and stay there tonight." Rashadi waited until Assandi was gone, then said, "Cylliel, please sit beside me, we have much to discuss. When Sarandio arrives, please, just listen to what I have to say."  
  
Cylliel nodded, a little confused, but she did as her friend requested, and sat in the spot Assandi had vacated. Sharadoni got busy and started preparing tea, humming under her breath as she worked. Cylliel was getting uncomfortable in the silence, and made to remove her weapons again, but again Rashadi stopped her, this time squeezing her hand, simply not letting her move.  
  
Cylliel heard the voice of the guard, followed by a very familiar voice. It was therefore no surprise to her when the entrance was opened and another elderly man walked into the tent. Sarandio was the holy shaman of the Rashadonii, and the most powerful man besides the chief. He shuffled in to meet gazes with his sister, then moved over to stand over his brother.  
  
"Are you ready, Rashadi?" he asked, "Shall we begin?"  
  
Cylliel's eyes where darting from one person to the other, they all seemed to know something she didn't. She was quite confused by this point, and was convinced that the three siblings were conspiring amongst themselves, and that it concerned her. Her thoughts were confirmed when Rashadi's eyes met with hers again, boring into her.  
  
"Cylliel, I am sorry it took me this long to tell you what I know." He began, "I was planning on telling you this earlier, then you disappeared again. The next thing I know, too many years have passed by, and I am now an old man. I need to tell you this before I pass on."  
  
"Tell me what," she asked, in a very confused and timid voice.  
  
"Cylliel, what I am about to tell you happened a very long time ago. This information has been passed down from Chief to Chief for two and a half thousand years. Only the chief and the shaman have been told of this information, but we feel the time has come for you to know. You need to know." He paused, seemingly trying to get his thoughts in order.  
  
"Rashadi," she prodded, "What do I need to know?"  
  
Rashadi sighed, resigning himself, "Cylliel, you need to know the story of how you came to us. You need to know your history. I am about to tell you everything."  
  
***********  
  
Well, what do you think?? Read and review! Please! I really do take reviews seriously, and appreciate them greatly! I will update soon, I promise! 


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